


Matchbook

by helens78



Series: Used Books For Adults [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Anonymous Sex, Community: ds_flashfiction, Glory Hole, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fraser has an unusual reaction to an everyday object, Ray notices.  And when Ray gets the opportunity to follow up and see if his suspicions have even a small basis in truth, he takes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchbook

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Vital Clue Challenge](http://ds-flashfiction.dreamwidth.org/tag/vital+clue+challenge) at [ds_flashfiction](http://ds-flashfiction.dreamwidth.org). Originally posted 2010-02-20.

Fraser has weird ways of investigating stuff. Ray's used to that by now. But once in a while he'll ask for something that Ray wasn't expecting, and every once in a while, whaddya know, Ray actually _has_ it.

Like today. Fraser looks through his pouch and tilts his head slightly to the side. "How embarrassing. I believe I've run out of matches, and frankly, my flint and tinder are a bit imprecise for what I'm trying to accomplish... Ray, do you happen to have any matches on you?"

"Huh. Lemme see..." Ray pats down his pockets, and after a minute or so, feels something like a matchbook in one of them. He pulls it out triumphantly. "Ta-da!"

Fraser looks up--and then stops cold, staring at the matchbook. Ray looks down at it himself, wondering if it's got something on it or something, but all it's got is a unicorn.

A unicorn. Aw, crap, he must have picked it up at the adult bookstore he goes to, the one with the glory holes in the back. Yeah, he remembers now--the address is on the inside cover, underneath the matches. Well, the matchbook's mostly full, Fraser won't even see it, won't even know where it comes from.

Except he's looking as consternated as Ray ever sees him, and unless he's got a lifelong fear of unicorns, Ray can't imagine why.

"Ah," Fraser says, and he does that thing with his thumb and his eyebrow, that uncomfortable-nervous little twitch thing. "Yes, Ray, thank you. If you could just--"

Ray lights a match and holds it still while Fraser catches the very edge of the little scrap of fabric they found on fire; it burns bright green for a second or two before Fraser blows out the fire, and then he touches the ashy parts and, being Fraser, has to lick his fingertips. He nods. "Yes, as I thought. Shall we?"

"Guess so," Ray says. He puts the matchbook back in his pocket, and they head off.

* * *

Later on that night, Ray starts thinking about it again. He doesn't always read Fraser so good--Fraser kind of ends up being like a mystery wrapped up in an enema (no, that can't be right--en-something, whatever) wrapped up in red serge--but Fraser was kind of rocked off his feet at that matchbook, which for a normal person might mean... what?

Well. It might mean he recognized the unicorn.

Only if it was just a matter of recognizing the unicorn, he probably wouldn't have batted an eyelash. No, there's something more to it than that. He recognized the unicorn _because_...

_Oh, hell, why not._ He glances at his watch; it's too early, really, barely midnight, but curiosity is going to get to him if he doesn't check it out. Besides, there's always been that one guy--that one amazing guy with the sharp tooth like Fraser's got, same _place_ as Fraser's, even, the one who's sucked Ray's brains out through his cock more times than Ray can really remember. (At least seven. Seven since he started thinking of the guy as his fantasy Mountie, but more than that beforehand.)

Ray doesn't normally show up to Used Books For Adults before about two in the morning, and usually not unless he's been dancing and his resistance is low, but tonight he wanders in, walks down the row of booths for the glory holes, and he sees booth #3 is taken. That's a good sign--that's the one his guy is always in anyway, and the thought that maybe it really _is_ Fraser, that maybe Fraser came here tonight because Ray put it in his mind and now he can't stop thinking about it...

Hell, the idea that Fraser likes to come here at all is enough to have Ray hard in his jeans before he even gets the door to booth #4 shut behind him.

He unzips and steps forward, takes his usual hole, and after a few seconds, there's a hand wrapped around his dick. He closes his eyes; if it's Fraser back there, he's always known exactly what he's doing. He's _good_ at this.

He gives it up to strangers more than once a week. Ray doesn't know if he thinks that's hotter than hell or if he wants to lock Fraser in his basement (not that he _has_ a basement) and make sure he doesn't give it to anybody else, ever.

The guy gets started, sharp tooth scraping over the top of Ray's cock, and Ray sighs softly. It doesn't matter; it's _not_ Fraser back there. But damn, a guy can fantasize, right?

He fantasizes about Fraser more and more often these days, and the glory hole booths are the least of it, but here and now it's a pretty little fantasy. Fraser on his knees, out of uniform, maybe in that soft blue flannel shirt of his. Fraser with his hand cupping his cock, trying to give himself a little bit of relief as he drags his mouth down on Ray's cock, over and over. He does this sexy _twist_ thing with his mouth as his lips come back over the head, and his tongue is rough and strong on the underside of Ray's cock, and _oh God_ the man could suck a golf ball through a hose, if that ain't too cliched, which it probably is. God, Ray doesn't _care_. The guy's just so damn good Ray wants to stay like this forever.

He rocks his hips forward, even though all it does is bump him into the wall. Fraser--whoever--on the other side of the wall, he starts pushing forward with the same rhythm, sucking hard, giving Ray that flick and twist of tongue that makes Ray shudder all the way down to his bones. The guy's mouth is so fucking _hot_, so slick, like having Ray's cock down his throat makes him salivate just thinking about it. Like he's always wanted this. Like he wants Ray more than he wants most of the guys who come here.

And maybe he does, but--"Wait," Ray pants. "Wait, fuck, wait--"

The guy hums out a protest, hums with his lips tight around Ray's cock, and Ray almost loses it then and there. "Jesus," Ray whispers. He pulls back, though, difficult as that is, and stands a pace back from the hole, trying to catch his breath. "Your turn," he says, a little louder. "You never let me do you--I _want_ to. Lemme do this for you."

There's silence from the other side of the wall, dead silence for a few seconds. Ray frowns; what kind of guy turns down a blowjob? Especially one who gets off on giving them?

But then the guy answers. "Ah--no," he says. "No, thank you."

And Ray has to lean against the wall, because _holy fucking shit_. Holy Christ on a ladder. Holy _shit_.

His cock's harder than ever, and he steps to the wall again. "Okay," he says. "Okay, fine, do me, then--"

And the guy, the one guy in all of Chicago who would say "no, thank you" to a blowjob in the middle of an adult bookstore, he puts his mouth on Ray's cock like he can suck the memory of this two-second conversation out through it, and maybe--_oh, God_, maybe he can, maybe the way his mouth feels on Ray is enough to make Ray forget _everything_. Ray groans out loud as Fraser rocks forward, mouth coming in hot and desperate, teeth scraping, and Ray starts humping the goddamned _wall_, fucking into Fraser's mouth as hard as he can when he's standing up and doesn't have a single thing to grab hold of.

He wonders how he tastes, what Fraser makes of it, whether Fraser likes the taste of Ray's come--oh God, he puts his mouth on _everything_, no wonder he comes down here to do this, no wonder this is what he wants out of sex. Fraser likes to suck cock; Fraser likes to have his mouth fucked. Ray can just picture what his face must look like right now--combination of desire and need and hunger and that look that says he's getting everything he wants, everything in the goddamn _world_, here and now with his lips dragging up the length of Ray's cock, up over and over until Ray's panting and grunting, about ready to _beg_.

"Please, oh God, fuck, yeah--_yeah_," Ray groans, and he should be giving Fraser more warning than that, but the idea of Fraser with Ray's come in his mouth--the idea that Fraser might go home after this, might go home tasting of _Ray_\--it's too much for him, and he comes with a bitten-off yell, filling Fraser's mouth up with his spunk. He can hear Fraser choking a little back there, but it doesn't stop him from sucking and sucking and _God, yeah_ licking around Ray's cock until Ray starts to shudder from the sensitivity.

"Jesus, buddy," Ray mumbles. "So fuckin' good--" He barely stops himself from saying more than that, saying enough to tip his hand. That's if his hand ain't tipped already, or more to the point, his cock; maybe Fraser knows him by look, maybe Fraser's copped a glance in the restroom somewhere or something.

Maybe Fraser's always known. Ray shivers as he pulls back and puts himself away. Maybe this is what Fraser _wants_\--doing it this way, with the wall between them.

Maybe Ray can live with that.

He leaves, and out in the parking lot, he takes a seat in the Goat, watching the front door for a while. But when a few minutes' wait turns into half an hour, and then an hour, he starts up the engine and heads home, wondering how the hell he's going to face Fraser at work in the morning.

_-end-_


End file.
